Puzzle Pieces
by Tribble Master
Summary: He's saying a name and you open your eyes. You don't know the name but you know help when you see it. "What...happened?"


**Puzzle Pieces**

Someone is talking to you and you open your eyes.

He keeps yelling a name at you that doesn't seem familiar. His hair falls in his eyes but you can still see bruises growing on his face. The hand he offers you is cut and the knuckles red.  
He says your name again, and asks if you're okay. You don't acknowledge the name. Your side hurts and you have a headache. "I'm okay, I'm sore," you say. Something inside of you churns, no, you think, something is very wrong.

"Let's go," says the brunette. "We gotta leave."

"Where?" You ask.

"We're in Seattle, on the pier. C'mon."

You don't want him to worry. So instead of asking to many questions you ask only one more.

"What…happened?"

"We were trying to stop a summoning." He looks at you oddly. "Are you sure you're fine?"

You scratch your head and feel blood on your skull. No. "I think I might have a concussion," you admit. He helps you to the car as you squint in the harsh light. An old relic, a… the word flies to you…Impala. As you get in you wonder if he's only a friend. He seems so concerned. Maybe a brother? Or a life partner? You don't know much but the word summoning is familiar. You remember a memory fragment. So long ago, you went to the cross roads and summoned a demon. You remember how you asked for one last kiss with Ariel. Ariel…she always was beautiful. Even after the car crash when she lay dying in the hospital she was beautiful. Your Ariel, soft brown curls and deep green eyes. And you just wanted to be with her one last time. Then one last time was gone and you died one last time. How long were you in the pit…you can't even remember…

"Dean?" the brunette asks again, "We'll get to a motel soon, man don't worry…"

Dean? That's funny, you think before you pass out. I could have sworn my name was Jason.

-------------------------------------**15 years earlier-------  
**  
She swore and threw her phone down on the kitchen door. The crack her phone made distracted her from hearing the door open. She was swearing viciously and was leafing through her address book when two arms wrapped around her.

"What's wrong, baby?" Her boyfriend whispered in her ear. He kissed her cheek softly.

Jason, she thought, it seemed like all the love potions today only bought lust.

"Jason," she said pushing his arms off her, "the cops claim to have evidence that I murdered Eugene."

"Well, you did." Jason said dully. He stared at her adoringly.

She tousled his hair. She was fluent in Latin, and knew every spell, and sometimes she wished she had one to make idiots disappear. "Yes, that is true, but we don't want them to know."

Jason nodded. They had been dating since she first drugged him three years ago, and he hardly needed more encouragement. Potion or not, he was madly in love. He learned Latin and every dark magic spell he could to impress her. In emergencies he was an asset, quickly able to recite the necessary enchantments.

"You'll just have to kill the cop," he said sighing. He started to go for the cabinets where all the ingredients were kept.

"Jason," she said smiling, "I think you just might be right. I believe a car crash is in order."

------------------------------------------

The man is saying your name again and you wake. He's trying to lift you out of the car. Shakily standing, with his help you make it to the motel room. #128. Huh, that's the number of the cop car that hit his Ariel. Stumbling you make it into the room.

Something inside you is still hissing, still rebelling, mumbling mismatched phrases and threats. You catch one word. "Sam," you say softly.

"Yeah, Dean?" The brunette calls.

"Oh. Nothing," you reply.

Sam gets out the first aid. He tells you take a shower, and then he'll look at your wounds. Dizzily you walk into the bathroom. Undressing you see ugly scars, bruises, and ink on your chest. The ancient circle is broken by a tiny cut that only bleeds slightly. Instinctively you know that sealing the wound would force you out. But it is so comfortable in this body that you never want to leave

Minutes later, stepping out fully dressed, you see Seth? No, Sam tie up the stitches in his arm. "Your turn," Sam says.

Yes, you think. Yes, after so long, it is your turn.

**….to be continued….**


End file.
